


Aftermath

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [8]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: BDSM, Clothing Kink, Feilong decides what to do with Yoh, M/M, Slash, Thought I'd forgot about him dintchya, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, first I want to thank you guys for your support on this series! I really only started out to do the first three (maybe four) parts, let Asami and Akihito teach Feilong a lesson and then leave them to your imaginations. I keep getting suggestions and shameless begging that makes me have to continue. Let's be honest though. Asami's worth shameless begging. I'd be doing it before he even got all the way across the damn room!</p><p>So this started out when I asked did you wanna have the aftermath of the Venice phone conversation be from Feilong's point of view. And you're getting it. But it turns out Feilong has a fuckton to say and think about, so I'm dividing it. It just keeps growing and multiplying on me. Hm. Must've gotten it wet....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Asami texts him flight plans and their estimated arrival time about an hour after they hang up the phone. By then he’s mostly stopped trembling and managed to catch his breath. For the sake of all that’s holy, he’s just spattered come all over the well under his desk in the middle of his workday between meetings with a couple of prickly uncles and one of his suppliers. One of the ones he can’t afford to piss off. He sighs and allows himself a few minutes to rest his face in his hands and wish desperately that he could leave all of this behind. Baishe. He’s made it his everything, worked so hard, clawing and killing and brutalizing to make himself THE Baishe, and now he can’t remember why it was so important. To venerate a father who never treated him as more than a tool, to be called out when needed and then shoved back onto a dark shelf when he was finished? To take the place of the brother he’s finally able to admit that he hated? Well okay, that much he always wanted. To usurp the sick fuck and do a better job than he’d have ever done…there’s satisfaction in that, to be sure. He closes his eyes and frowns, remembering those hands on his body, the dark gleam in the black eyes that had no place on a brother’s face when he looked at his beautiful baby brother. Feilong remembers the sneers and ridicule that he was too feminine, too pretty to be a real man. He recognizes now that it was a pervert’s attempt to cover a forbidden desire. What would have happened if Asami hadn’t visited China when he had, back then? Would Feilong’s brother (he doesn’t speak the name anymore, not even to himself) have raped him eventually? In his heart, he knows this is true. He’d stood up to the man again and again, but eventually the tension would have snapped, and Feilong wouldn’t have been willing to kill him to save his virtue. Then his troubled mind wanders to his times with Akihito….oh _gods._ He groans softly when he thinks of those sparkling eyes and how close he had come to putting out their light. Takaba IS his Ototo, his baby brother, the one he longed for as a boy, swearing to himself in the night that if he had one, he would care for him always and never hurt him. But he had hurt Aki. Over and over. Doing to him what his brother would have done to him. Ruthlessly, he forces himself to remember how it felt to rape the boy, using threats and terror to subdue him, because his bullet wound had prevented him from really overpowering the young man.

How can they have forgiven him? How can they not only do that, but welcome him into their beds? Bear to have his hands on them? Asami is no better a man than he….No. No, he won’t tell himself that lie any longer. Asami has managed to build his empire with the help of his people, has made friends as well as enemies, and knows compassion as well as cruelty. And contrary to what Feilong had told himself for years, he is the stronger man for it. He sighs, feeling himself sinking into the morass of self-recrimination.

“Feilong-sama?” says a quiet voice behind him. He turns his head, recognizing the voice, and frowns.

“What are you doing here, Yoh?” he asks tiredly. “I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“If that was what you wanted, you should have pulled the trigger, Sama,” says Yoh quietly. “I am still your man, whether you know it or not.”

“I’ll ask you again. What are you doing here?”

“I’m your ten o’clock appointment,” says the Japanese bodyguard with a tiny smile. “I let myself in through the window in your wash room. You should probably have a talk with your chief of security. I got in way too easily.”

“My ten o’clock appointment is supposed to be with Aishen,” says Feiong coldly, choosing to ignore the rest of the comment. Not that he won’t be having a talk with his chief of security, because he will, and it’s not unlikely that it’ll end in bloodshed, but he’s not telling Yoh that.

“Yes. I lied to your appointment secretary,” shrugs Yoh.

“Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About? Yoh, out with it please, I’m too tired to do this dance with you. I may just shoot you out of sheer annoyance. I’m not in the mood for this.”

“You look sad, Sama,” murmurs Yoh, his eyes filled with a tenderness Feilong doesn’t want to see.

“Yoh….”

“I’ve heard the talk amongst your people about Asami,” he says finally, looking at Feilong solemnly.

“So?”

“They say you went to Tokyo and broke him, tamed the tiger to your hand.”

“So?”

Yoh laughs.

“Have they _met_ him?” he chuckles. Feilong manages not to let his lips twitch. Yoh knows Asami too well.

“DO you actually have a point, you insufferable creature?” he asks irritably, because if anyone discovers the lie they’ve perpetrated, his life is over.

“My point is that I want to help you, Sama.”

“Oh? And how do you propose to do that? Exactly?”

“Exactly? I’ll help you make sure no one ever knows.” Says Yoh softly, with unutterable sadness in his eyes. Feilong frowns.

“Knows what?” he demands uncomfortably. Yoh adds about a million kilos to his discomfort by surging to Feilong’s side and sinking to his knees beside his chair.

“You have been given your heart’s desire, Liu Feilong,” he whispers. “And it is NOT that you are Asami’s Master. Whether you accept it or not though, you are mine. I can keep you safe, Sensei. I can make sure your happiness is kept safe from your enemies and allies alike. We can say that my betrayal was perpetrated by us, down to letting me be beaten almost to death by your men, and that the information I fed you about Asami is part of what helped you bring him to heel. He won’t mind. He’ll think it’s funny.”

“Is that what he says?” asks Feilong sharply, trying to ignore the sharp ache of compassion in his chest for this man. He doesn’t doubt Yoh’s love now. He can see it shining in his face, because he has seen the same expression on his own recently, though not long ago he had believed he would never know what such a thing felt like. The small shard of ice in his heart that was Yoh’s betrayal starts to melt, and he remembers a strong hand at his back all those years in prison, and an expression of endless tenderness in a much younger Yoh’s eyes.

“I don’t know what he says,” murmurs Yoh steadily, looking him straight in the eyes. “He fired me.”

“He what?”

“He would not allow me to continue a work that went against my heart,” whispers the other man, letting his eyes drop for a moment. “But he’ll let me help the two of you….no,” he corrects himself, making an intuitive leap, “ the THREE of you, to keep your secret.”

“And what is my secret?” says Feilong, knowing he sounds a little churlish.

“You belong to him, Feilong-sama. You always have, only now it is in fact instead of only thought. And I am happy for you.” He smiles, and there is sweetness in it that makes Feilong want to cry.

“Yoh,” he whispers, suddenly overcome with emotions he has no real words for. This expression of selfless devotion awakens something in him he has only recently come to be able to express. “You mean that.”

“I do, Sensei. You deserve to be happy. You are once again the man I grew to respect….and to love. I would follow you anywhere, and I belong by your side. Please, Sensei, let me help you. I can be restored to your inner circle and help cover your movements for you.”

On an impulse, Feilong reaches down and takes Yoh’s chin in his fingers. Yoh’s eyelashes flutter and his eyes fall closed.

“You’d help me make my way safely to another man’s bed?” breathes Feilong.

“Yes, sensei,” says Yoh simply.

“Why?”

“I want you to be happy.”

Suddenly something inside Feilong’s chest loosens. He sees Yoh as he thinks Asami would, were the situation reversed, and finds that in forgiving him, as he knows Asami would (has already, in fact, because Feilong realizes with a bit of surprise that Yoh really HAS betrayed Asami, in a way that he’s never betrayed Feilong), he is able to forgive himself a little. He knows it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but somehow he feels that if he rejects the actions of the man he was and chooses ones the man he hopes he is would pick, maybe he’ll be able to stop despising himself for some of his choices. As he gently covers Yoh’s mouth with his own and swallows the gasp of surprise, his lips curve in a smile. Apparently, there are some things he’s going to need to discuss with Asami. He knows Asami doesn’t share, not with anyone who’s not already his to begin with, but Feilong’s pretty sure this is different. In being owned, one of course belongs to the One who is Owner, but it’s also true that when you Own someone, you also belong to THEM, and nothing can change that. Nothing can change that Yoh is his, he realizes, even if he sends the man away again and never speaks another word to him for the rest of their lives. He never asked for the bond, never sought it, would have rejected it if he could, but it is stamped plain as day on Yoh’s face as Feilong peers at him from under his eyelashes while he kisses him.

“You’re forgiven,” he whispers against Yoh’s lips, in which there is a tiny tremble, which Feilong finds himself wanting to bite. Badly. “Now, let’s devise a plan to get me into the city tonight without an entourage. Asami and Takaba are on their way. We’ll work out the rest later. Consider this….a job interview.”

“Yes, sensei.” The peace on Yoh’s face is considerably at odds with the rather impressive erection tenting the front of his pants when he gets to his feet and pulls out a small notebook, sitting down in front of the desk to start asking questions about logistics in his concise, efficient manner. Feilong answers, smiling a little bemusedly, his earlier misery buried under a shining realization that maybe it’s true that sometimes you really do get a second chance. He’s not going to squander his. That was then, Asami had said. He allows the weight of his own perfidy to slide from his shoulders. There are, after all, much better things to dwell on!

 

The text from Takaba comes through right on time…. “OMFG we’re here. He’s in a MOOD, Be warned, he BITES. Fuck! C u in an hour?” It makes Feilong laugh out loud, because he can just see poor Aki trying to fend off Asami’s advances, pushing at him uselessly while Asami determinedly ignores his yelps and protests and insults, nipping sharply at whatever part of Takaba presents itself to his smirking mouth. Yoh, who is standing by the front window gazing watchfully out into the night, looks over his shoulder  with a quirked eyebrow.

“Apparently Asami-sama is in something of a predatory mood,” murmurs Feilong by way of explanation. “They’ve landed at the private airstrip. They should be here in about twenty minutes, if traffic isn’t bad.”

“Yes sensei,” says Yoh composedly, turning back to his vigil.

“Are you nervous, Yoh?” he asks his bodyguard curiously. He’s explained to the man what he means to say to Asami.

“No sensei. I understand that he may forbid you to touch me, and that you’ve given him that right. I accept that. He cannot force me to stop serving you, Feilong-sama. It is where I belong, and I won’t leave you. If he demands that my service be only the same as it has been in the past, then I am content.”

“How can you be?” demands Feilong curiously. It’s pretty hard to imagine being in Asami’s presence and not being able to touch him. No, it’s impossible.

“How can I miss that which I have never had?” replies Yoh simply. “I am your man, Feilong. The flavor of it is less important to me than the continuance of it.” Yoh’s voice is calm, but there’s a fiercer light in his eyes than Feilong has ever seen, a shine of desire he’s never shown before, and Feilong admits to himself that he likes it.

In almost exactly sixteen minutes, headlights flash across the wall. Feilong’s heart rate doubles, and he feels a little breathless. This is both because his mind and body are aching for what Asami has threatened his pets with, and because he has no idea what Asami is going to say about Yoh. He’ll confess about the kiss. Deceit may be as much a part of Feilong’s everyday life as breathing, but he won’t show Asami and Akihito that face anymore.

He stays in the big armchair where he’s been waiting, and if his fingertips whiten a little from pressing hard into its arms, who could blame him? There’s a knock at the door and Yoh answers it, his gun in hand but concealed behind his thigh until he determines that it actually is Asami and Takaba at the door. For a split second when it opens, Feilong’s heart stutters wildly as he wonders if enemies have found him here, because he doesn’t immediately recognize the apparitions on the doorstep. Yoh, however, relaxes and steps back, and the two men step into the front room, laughing. It’s their laughs which reveal them, because Feilong can’t help but recognize both Aki’s bell-clear joyous laughter or Asami’s dark, rich, filthy chuckle. Their appearances, now that he realizes they are who they’re supposed to be, are wildly improbable disguises. Akihito is dressed at least a step above the most outrageous Jpop rocker Feilong’s ever seen, his hair sprayed an eyewatering hot pink and absolutely THICK with glitter, spiked straight up on top and slicked to his head on the sides so that he almost looks like he has a mohawk.  He’s wearing makeup, and although it’s completely over the top, Feilong has to admit the eyeliner and lipstick give the boy a positively obscene appeal. He looks like a singing porn star. Those darkened lips look made to wrap around a hard cock, and the black around his eyes along with the emerald eyeshadow turn his expressive eyes into fuck-me gleams of mossy green. Earrings adorn both ears, sliver hoops that start next to the shoulder-brushing chains dangling from his (actually pierced) earlobes and march up the rims of both ears. There are at least a dozen on each side. Feilong doesn’t think he’s actually run out and gotten that many piercings just for the fun of a disguise, but he can’t tell for sure. He wears a purple leather spiked collar with a ring in the front and a short leash dangling from it, the loop of which he wears around his own left wrist. A black fishnet shirt shows off his slender, athletic body. His wiry arms are adorned from wrist to elbow with dozens upon dozens of bracelets, ranging in construction from string to rubber to plastic to metal to leather. A thick studded black belt keeps the tight, neon purple jeans from slipping off his hips, his hip bones and belly button exposed in a stripe of skin between his shirt’s hem and the waistband of the skin-tight hip hugger pants. The erection confined inside them looks pretty painful, because there’s not really enough room inside those pornographic pants for a soft cock, let alone one as clearly roused as poor Aki’s is. The jeans are almost more hole than denim, with strategic rips slashed an inch apart from right below the pockets to the ankles, the skin of the boy’s legs peeking out. He’s wearing black punk doc martens with pictures of punk hello kitty on the toes. He’s outrageous, and adorable, and looks utterly edible.

If Feilong’s mouth waters at Akihito’s appearance, Asami’s makes him want to fall to his knees and weep with gratitude. He’s a walking wet dream in Dolce, but tonight he’d tempt an angel to sin, and he’d win too. Black engineer boots make deep, satisfying thuds against the parquet floor with each step. And Asami doesn’t just walk. He stalks. Faded blue jeans look poured over his thighs and hips, cupping and hugging his ass like they’re skin. They’re not tight in an obscene way like Aki’s skinny jeans. They’re molded to his body in a way that is both filthy and not overstated. Feilong’s never seen Asami in a pair of jeans. He looks so good in them it wrings a tiny whimper of urgency from his lips. Asami, of course, hears it, and his mouth quirks. A thick, well-oiled strap of a black leather belt that makes Feilong’s cock twitch in his pants while his ass clenches in nervous fear adorns the lean waist. It’s almost a quarter of an inch thick and two inches wide. A sturdy, brushed steel buckle rests right above where Feilong imagines the head of Asami’s cock rides inside his pants. A starkly white t-shirt molds to his abs and pectoral muscles like someone has smeared their hands with white paint and run them all over his torso. It’s not cheaply made, but the fabric is JUST thin enough to show a hint of skin tone and the darker circles of his nipples. Every delicious ridge and ripple of muscle in that perfect upper body is visible through the shirt. A black leather motorcycle jacket ornamented with metal studs and chains looks like he was born in it and it grew with him, scuffed and worn and perfect for him. Silver rings gleam on all his fingers, from simple bands to outrageously grinning skulls and dragons coiling around his long, strong fingers. A simple leather cord with a medallion on it circles his powerful neck. Feilong recognizes the symbol on the ornament as the universally accepted BDSM lifestyle symbol adopted by the alternative community, a stylized triskellion with small dots in each of the commas inside it, similar to those on a yin/yang symbol, except in triplicate. There’s a silver hoop just big enough for Aki’s pinky finger in his right ear. His inky black hair is tousled, bangs falling in his amber, catlike eyes which burn at Feilong from under the messy fringe like he’s lunch. Asami’s slow smile is filthy with promise. The four of them poise there in the front room, frozen for a minute in a tableau of mutual admiration, then Asami takes a long stride and yanks Feilong from his chair into a deep, drugging kiss that leaves Feilong’s lips tingling and smarting with the hard nip Asami leaves him with.

“Hnguh,” he says dazedly, swaying a little as every drop of blood in his body rushes to his cock.

“Hello Yoh,” says Asami graciously. “You look considerably better than the last time I saw you.” Feilong glances sharply at Asami’s face to get a read on his reaction to his ex-employee’s presence, but he can’t tell what it reveals. At least Sensei doesn’t look angry.

“Thank you, Asami-sama,”says Yoh, bowing his head. “As do you.”

“From the way you’re standing there looking like you expect to get shot again, Feilong, it seems perhaps a conversation needs to occur before I strip you naked and turn you into a howling wreck?” Feilong sighs in relief even as he fails to choke back a muffled sound of helpless desire. Asami’d never say such a thing in front of someone he didn’t trust, nor would he say it if he were angry. His keen eyes have probably already deduced much of what’s not being said yet. Akihito is oblivious, but grins delightedly to see Yoh, and gives him a huge hug. Yoh grins back with exasperated affection and remembers in the nick of time not to ruffle the boy’s hair lest he come away smeared with pink spray and glitter.

“Yoh,” he says softly, “if you’d be so kind as to provide refreshment, I’ll see our guests to the study.”

“Yes, sensei,” says Yoh distinctly. Asami raises one eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Feilong takes a breath and turns.

“If you’ll both follow me?” he asks softly. “I need to talk to you before…well, before anything else happens.”

Asami nods solemnly, and Feilong swallows hard. He hadn’t really expected this to be so important to him. His knees are shaking imperceptibly as he leads them to the elegantly appointed study. They all sit, Takaba’s eyes alight with curiosity, Asami’s gleaming with interest. Feilong takes a deep breath.

“It’s about Yoh, Asami sensei,” he says, glad that his voice is smooth and even.

“You’ve accepted him,” murmurs Asami with a small smile.

“I’m so glad you decided to forgive him, Ani,” bursts out Takaba with a brilliant smile.

“It’s quite a bit more than that, I think,” muses Asami. Akihito looks confused.

“Huh?”

“Come now, Aki. It’s as plain as the nose on your face what’s between the two of them.”

“Wait. What? Feilong, are you SLEEPING with Yoh? What about us? What the hell’s going on?”

Feilong, who hadn’t considered Aki’s reaction to the circumstances at all, shoots Asami a helpless look. Asami reaches over to the chair where Aki’s hands grip the arms in agitation, circles a slender wrist with his fingers, and yanks the boy out of his chair and into Asami’s lap.

“Aki?” he purrs.

“Nhh. What? Is he cheating on u….mmphm!”

Asami shuts him up with an aggressive kiss which leaves Aki panting and glaring resentfully.

“Now, go ahead Fei-kun,” he says softly. Feilong bites his lip against a smile. Aki wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at right now, he’s too confused and worried.

“He….he is mine, sensei,” he whispers, looking down at the fingers he has knotted together in his lap, then back up at Asami challengingly. He knows that he’s probably doing this wrong, but since he hardly knows what THIS is, he’s pretty much fumbling along in the dark.

“I have known that since I fired him,” says Asami, smiling. “And I’ll second Aki’s sentiment. I am glad you decided to forgive him too.”

“I…I kissed him today. I just wanted to make sure it was out in the open.” Feilong holds his breath, but Asami only quirks an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth. There’s no flash of anger in his eyes, not even a flare of annoyance. Perhaps this isn’t going to be horrible.

At that moment, Yoh glides into the room with a large tray in his hands.  On it there is a bottle of sake that Feilong recognizes as being from a brewery he and Asami have just recently purchased together in Okinawa, and three cups. There is a small platter stacked with pot stickers, spring rolls, crispy little daikon radish pickles, tea leaf eggs sliced very thin, and an assortment of nigiri. Feilong can only wonder how on earth Yoh has managed this. The kitchen here is kept stocked with the basics, but not what would be needed to make all of this! He had informed the man of the safehouse’s location this morning, and sent him to check it for security and see that all was in readiness, but this smacks of an efficiency and talent that almost makes Feilong’s head spin. He has the unsettling feeling that Yoh actually COOKED all of these things (or started them marinating) yesterday in the brief hours he had been gone. Feilong thinks he can probably afford to fire all of his assistants and replace at least a dozen men with Yoh alone. He’d give Kirishima a run for his money. The blending of their two cultures in the offerings is not lost on anyone. Feilong’s face warms with pleasure at how fucking good Yoh’s making him look right now (or would be if these were people he needed to impress….they’re probably beyond that by now). The man silently serves all three of them, and then to Akihito’s startled exclamation, sets the tray down on the coffee table and kneels gracefully at Feilong’s feet, his expression serene but his eyes locked challengingly on Asami’s face.

“Hey!” says Akihito furiously (the threat in his voice somewhat damaged by the fact that his mouth’s stuffed full of a pot sticker and half a plate of sushi at the same time), “you don’t get to HAVE him, Yoh! He’s OURS!”

Can they see the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes when the boy says this? Does he care? Feilong is suddenly breathless with the realization that after a life of pain and loneliness and anger and fear, he is quite suddenly almost the happiest human being on the face of the earth. It is as if every ounce of rage and sorrow in his body had only been waiting to leap at the chance to be transformed into brilliant joy, and he can’t do anything but shine with it. Oh, it is so nearly perfect that he can barely contain it. So nearly…he looks at Yoh, amazed than in less than twelve hours he could realize that there had indeed been one final piece left to this puzzle, one final tumbler in the locks on his happiness, and that he wants this _desperately._ Asami presses his lips to the back of Akihito’s neck and calmly covers his mouth with one strong hand. Clamping down when Aki tries to tear his face away and yell at him, he growls warningly. Over the boy’s red-faced protests, Asami looks at Yoh and Feilong.

“What would you have be the nature of your relationship with my lover, Yoh?” he asks expressionlessly. Feiong closes his eyes and sighs bitterly.

“I would have it be anything he wished it to be, Asami-sama,” says Yoh evenly.

“You’d give him your ass if he wanted it?”

“I’d beg him to take it if he wanted me to, and I’d mean every word,” retorts Yoh, unperturbed.

“And if I tell him he cannot have you?” asks Asami keenly. Yoh’s chin lifts and he looks into Asami’s face.

“You cannot make me stop being his, Asami. I belong to him, not matter what you say. If you will not have him own me as you own him, then I shall serve him the way I have always done, and I will not make him sorry for it. If you tell him to send me away, I will serve him from the shadows and never let him see, so that he is never forced to disobey you or to choose between us. If you say you will kill me if I do not leave him alone, I will hand you my gun.”

“How would you feel, being the property of a man owned by another?”

“Lucky in knowing my Master’s needs are met in every way. I know you, Asami. You will never let harm befall him. Should I begrudge him what his heart wants? Never. And should I deny what my heart wants just because he has needs I couldn’t meet? That would be stupid. I don’t put myself at Feilong’s feet because he is a Dominant. I care nothing for titles, or what he does when he is with you, except that it makes him happy, for which I am grateful to you and Akihito. Do not belittle what I feel, Asami. What you do together has nothing to do with this. I could not possibly care less.”

Feilong, who is staring intently at Asami’s face while Yoh speaks and at the same time is having difficulty breathing at the stunning beauty and certainty of the words, sees the way Asami’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly with pleased astonishment. Right then, he’s nearly sure everything is going to be fine.

“I value him a great deal, Yoh. One last question….if I insisted upon being there when he takes you for the first time, to make sure he is safe and that he handles the situation properly? What then?”

Yoh’s hands stray towards the button of his slacks.

“Would now be convenient for you, Asami-sama?” he asks politely.

Asami lets go of Akihito’s mouth and leans back in his chair, laughing delightedly.

“Oh please, keep your pants on, Yoh,” he says finally, still chuckling.

“Asami,” says Aki urgently, twisting in the billionaire’s lap to place the palms of his hands on Asami’s grinning face. “Don’t laugh at him! This is serious! Don’t be mean to them. I’m sorry, Feilong, I didn’t understand before. Asami, if you don’t give them permission, I’ll never forgive you! They…they’re like a fairy tale!”

“I wonder which one of us is the princess,” mutters Yoh under his breath, and Feilong’s own laughter is startled out of his chest. He hadn’t known the solemn man had it in him!

“We’ll take turns,” he whispers at the top of Yoh’s head. “you get to wear the tiara every other day.”

“Asami,” yells Takaba urgently, slapping the man hard on the arm. Asami captures the offending hand and brings it to his lips, biting gently at Akihito’s fingers.

“Stop it, pet, your ass is in enough trouble as it is. I’d advise you not to make things worse. And as to your accusatory remarks, I’ll thank you to have a little more faith in me, little boy, or I will show you how mean I can be.” Takaba squirms on his lap until Asami stands up and sets him back down in it by himself, spluttering a little. He’s across the sitting arrangement in one long stride and suddenly kneeling in front of Yoh and Feilong. Sometimes it’s easy to look at how muscular and just BIG Asami is and underestimate how graceful he can be, and how fucking fast. Feilong holds his breath as Asami lifts one of Yoh’s hands and gestures, palm up, for one of Feilong’s. When he slides his fingers into Asami’s hand, he gasps a little at the warm squeeze he gets and the look of sentiment on his sensei’s face. Asami gently places Yoh’s hand into Feilong’s, and then glides back, sitting on the floor beside his vacated seat where Akihito now resides, suddenly cheering wildly. Asami looks up at Aki and laughs at him. Feilong looks down at Yoh, thinking about what he’s going to DO with him later. The possibilities make his head spin. Yoh smiles, a glimmer of wet shine in his eyes that does not – quite – spill over.

“Sensei,” whispers Yoh breathlessly.

“Mine,” purrs Feilong lasciviously.

 

 They partake of the light meal Yoh has prepared for them, and Feilong feeds his new toy from his own hand, giving him sips from his own sake cup. Asami’s pleasure at seeing them is overlaid with hot burning glances full of promise. Feilong feels a lot like his skin is too tight. Asami informs him kindly but very firmly that whatever’s going to happen between he and Yoh is going to have to wait, because he has the prior claim on tonight. Yoh nods graciously and informs Asami that he expects nothing less, and that he shall remain on the ground floor, keeping all of them safe. He tells Asami he knows Suoh and Kirishima are outside, and that between the three of them, Asami need fear nothing tonight. Asami smiles at Yoh and looks at Feilong.

“If you ever have to punish this one, I’ll eat this shirt.”

“Oh please don’t,” murmurs Feilong with a hungry stare at Asami’s body. “It’s fantastic! And I agree. He’s too good. Hmm. That reminds me. How do you feel about pain, Yoh?” he asks politely, looking down at Yoh with a decidedly feral grin. Yoh looks up at him and his eyes widen the tiniest bit. His lips part.

“What kind of pain, sensei?” he asks guardedly.

“If he’s anything like Asami, and he IS,” mutters Akihito darkly, “he’ll whip you and spank you and put cages on your…parts…so you can’t get off, and cram vibrators in you and tie you up so you can’t move and hang you from the ceiling and fuck you all the time until you’re really sore and then do it some more, and put clamps and things on your nippes and other places and shove his…ahh…you-know…down your throat and shove his fingers in you whenever he wants and never ask if it’s okay and…”

“All of that?” murmurs Yoh.

“Oh, at least,” answers Feilong heartlessly.

“It wasn’t a question, sensei,” says Yoh a little hoarsely. “It was a request. All of that? Can I have all of that?”

This causes Akihito to snort sake out his nose and pretty much wraps the discussion the hell up. Once the photographer’s eyes stop watering and Asami reaches the end of his patience with being solicitous, he scoops Aki up and throws him over his shoulder, snagging the document case in his free hand and glaring significantly at Feilong. By this time, Feilong’s ribs hurt he’s been laughing so much, and Yoh’s ears are pink with the effort of not laughing just as much, and Asami’s amber eyes are flashing fire. Feilong figures that probably doesn’t bode well for the state of his ass in just a little bit, but he’s too fucking happy to care. Ok no, that’s not entirely true. He cares. He’s just looking forward to it a lot more than he probably should. And after….

He tilts his head to the side and gazes speculatively at Yoh’s black slacks. They’re generously fitted, of a fabric with a lot of give to it so that he can run in them when needed, and perform his bodyguard duties (which might or might not include physical violence at any given second) with the best of them, but they hug his ass enough for Feilong to at least get an idea of what he’s looking at. He starts to flush a little, realizing he’s never actually even noticed Yoh’s ass before and how weird it feels, but then the smug voice in his had reminds him. _Mine_. And he stops.

“Yoh,” he calls softly.

“Yes, sensei?”

“Turn around for me please.”

And how fucking amazing is it that Yoh neither questions him nor hesitates for a second. And it isn’t because he fears the Baishe or believes he’ll be shot if he’s not fast enough, it’s because he wants to. He turns around and puts his back to Feilong, standing patiently, just waiting. Feilong’s cock stirs in his pants. Yoh, as it turns out, as a tight, pleasantly rounded backside that fills his trousers just enough and makes Feilong’s palms itch to touch it. He sighs a little regretfully and turns back towards the staircase to follow Asami up to the bedroom, to the big bed where seven years ago something almost happened and the something had terrified him and aroused him beyond reason at the same time, except now he knows what’s going to happen and he wants it. Oh, he wants it. Asami is still standing on the bottom step, one booted foot on the next one, looking at him with a small smile.

Feilong goes to him, opening his mouth to release Yoh from his position since part of him thinks it’s possible the man will stand right there all night long if he doesn’t. Asami reaches out and stops him with a finger to his lips, the document case now slung over the shoulder that isn’t occupied with Takaba, who is hammering his fists uselessly against Asami’s back and hissing curses at him. Feilong closes his eyes and can’t resist stroking the tip of his tongue over Asami’s fingertip. Asami growls softly.

“Fei-kun,” he whispers, “go and take a little taste. Fill your hands with what will be waiting for you tomorrow, and show him that this isn’t a joke, or a dream. Then join us. We’re not going anywhere without you. Although,” he says menacingly, raising his voice a little, “somebody’s ass is already going to be well on the way to cooked if you take too much time. Hear me, you rotten brat? I’m going to start YOUR spanking the minute we get upstairs, after I dunk your ridiculous pink head under the shower!”

“PUT ME DOWN!” hollers Aki. Asami grins bindingly at Feilong and makes a little shooing gesture at him.

“As you can see, I’m not going to be bored waiting for you. He is worth it, Bishounen. Let him know it.”

“Asami….” Says Feilong, feeling a little awkward, but needing to say something anyway, “I….I don’t know how to…”

“Feilong,” says Asami softly. “You know where I learned all of this. I’ve….been where you are. And the man who held the position over me that I have over you let me be both things too, and as I’ve told you, he was the only person I ever called sensei, or ever will. He deserved the title, beautiful one, and I’m going to try to deserve it too. It’s a hell of a thing isn’t it, that when we let our monsters out of their cages, suddenly we both find they’ve become knights instead?” He nods towards Yoh and turns his back, carrying the squirming Akihito up the stairs, informing him cheerfully what he’s going to do to him in a few minutes. Aki’s curses turn into a whimper and he moans helplessly as Asami’s sinful promises melt away his resistance. Feilong stares after the man he’s spent seven years trying to hate and feels love and awe squeezing out the last few drops of bitterness in his heart. He glides silently across the antique Persian rug on the floor and stops behind Yoh, who still hasn’t moved. He knows Feilong is there, he can see it in the miniscule cocking of the bodyguard’s head as he senses it. Feilong slides his hands onto Yoh’s hips, and they both sigh softly. When he presses himself fully against the other man’s back, the sighs catch at the same time and Yoh holds his breath while Feilong groans softly into his ear. Yoh’s taut buttocks cradle his swelling erection and he slides his hands down the slender hips and around between their bodies to cup the firm cheeks in his hands.  Yoh’s breath is harsh in the quiet of the room and he arches his back just a little bit, pressing against Feilong’s palms, but not too much.

“Have you done this before, Yoh?” he purrs softly. Yoh shudders.

“No, sensei.”

It’s….not the answer he’d been expecting. Had been preparing to inform his new acquisition that Feilong would erase the memory of every other man who had ever touched him from Yoh’s mind. But this…a virgin? He smiles.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” says Yoh simply, which staggers Feilong in its honesty. He steps back.

“Yoh….” He says, hands out to his sides as though what they’ve been doing suddenly alarms him. “If it’s not what you want from me, we never have to. I don’t want you to fear me…” Yoh’s soft laughter stops his words, makes him frown, until Yoh turns and sinks to his knees, looking up at him earnestly.

“I am NOT afraid of you,” he says fiercely, and it sends a thrill through Feilong to see that despite his obedience, Yoh is by no means afraid to speak his mind. “I was not afraid the day I stood before you and offered you my life, Feilong-sama. I’m afraid because I don’t know how much it is going to hurt. I’m afraid because I cannot imagine how someone with my….inexperience…could possibly compare to what you’ve had in the past. I’m afraid because I have thought about it for so many years, so many times, and spilled into my own hand with images of it in my head that I can’t imagine how I’m going to avoid coming in my pants like a boy before they’re even OFF, and making a fool of myself…”

“Yoh,” says Feilong with more tenderness that he’d have believed himself capable. “You’re making ME a little afraid when you say things like that! Those are some serious expectations to live up to. I…I cannot tell you that it won’t hurt. It usually does, a little bit. But I can promise you that I’ll make you feel good. And do my best not to let it hurt very much. Your inexperience is making me so hard I want to throw you down and ravish you here and now. There are men who find the thought of deflowering virgins daunting, or unappealing. I assure you, I am NOT one of them. To be the first to take you that way…mm. Yoh, it’s magnificent. It makes me a bastard, but the part of me that loves the idea of hurting you would like nothing more than to bend you over the arm of that chair beside you, yank down your pants, and shove into you while you scream.” Yoh’s face pales a little.

“If it’s what you want, you should do it,” he breathes, his voice only shaking a little bit

“There was a time when I would have,” he admits slowly. “But not now. I won’t hurt you like that, especially not your first time. I can make it good for you, and I’m going to. And as for coming in your pants? Well whatever gave you the impression you’re only allowed to come once in a night, my dear body guard? When you’ve come for the first time with me, we’ll barely be getting started.” He leans down, kisses Yoh quick and dirty on his surprised mouth and leaves him there, staring after Feilong with his mouth hanging open. Perfect. He doesn’t even release the man from the position he’s in, but after all he wasn’t the one who put him there, Yoh did that on his own, so he can get up on his own too. Feilong, after all, has a date with a man who it’s unwise to keep waiting too long!

**Author's Note:**

> You'll probably notice in this series that the word "punishment" is used a little freely. Especially if you've read my Avengers fics, this may come across as a little off. All I can say is that it honestly depends on the kind of relationship you're in. My Phlint pairing only use the term punishment for something that is a real consequence of actual screwing up or making a bad choice. However, I am using it in this series to be a little more fluid than that. For the most part, the people in this story are not in M/s relationships, and it's okay for the uke to enjoy his punishment. Then again, sometimes it actually is in response to defiance, as in the chapter by that name. Essentially, I am using it pretty loosely because Asami himself uses it pretty loosely in the manga.
> 
> Just be cautious with this if you're in an actual BDSM relationship. Define the term and how it's going to be used and in what ways it's acceptable. Misuse of the term when all you're talking about it a play scene can mess up a really subby person's head if they think they've been bad. Always talk to each other!!


End file.
